Conditional
by My Artless Suicide
Summary: Finland never acknowledged anything but the present, and it fit his lifestyle perfectly. But what happens when forgetting and moving forward isn't as easy as it seems? Who said living forever made love conditional? SuFin
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome to Conditional! :D I'm really excited for this fic and I'll try to keep it updated on a regular. **

**Disclaimer: Hetalia - Axis Powers and all things affiliated with the anime belong to FUNimation. All I own is the plot line.**

* * *

><p>Tino Vainamoinen was at a loss.<p>

It had officially been 5 days since the 22nd , the Decree, and the realization. He was free, finally standing alone on his own two feet in his own home; there was no one to report to, no one to cower in fear from.

It was odd, he thought while dressing, to be his own nation at last. He trudged down the long wooden hall of his one story to the kitchen, slippers shuffling solemnly the whole way. His gaze flitted over the living room, it bare furnishings. There was a couch that dominated the space, its pillows plush and a rich champagne color, next to a rocking chair. The fire in the hearth had burned out until it was just embers that needed to be stoked again. The tiny end table that had been meticulously hand carved by Sve-

The Official Republic of Finland quickly made his way to the kitchen, where he broke down in tears.

* * *

><p>- about 90 years later-<p>

"Peter! ...PETER!" Tino groaned and sat up in bed, ready to face another day.

It takes a considerable amount of effort to actually keep his eyes open. He pushed the coverlet back and toppled from the mattress, bringing the sheets down with him.

"DAMN IT PETER, WHERE ARE YOU CHILD?" Tino stumbles, bleary eyed, down to the kitchen. There are two pieces of toast and a jar of Tino's favorite strawberry jam in the middle of the kitchen island. Under the jar there is a sticky note. Tino reads it aloud.

"Dear Ma, went to Uncle Alfred's. Took Hanatamago. Back before Sunday. Hugs and Goodmornin's, love Peter."

He sighs and crumples the note, tossing it to the trash bin. It hits the rim and misses… and suddenly Tino is overcome by nostalgia.

_They were both in the kitchen, Tino chopping radishes for stew and Berwald hauling in the smoked and salted beef. They were both on edge, having escaped to an isolated cabin on the fringes of the Gulf of Bothnia as Danish forces closed in on the area from undisclosed areas in Norway. It seemed as if Denmark wasn't ready to let go of them yet, and continued perusing an almost 180 year battle of dominance that none of the other Nordic brothers seemed to fully comprehend. Tino was wearing his favorite aquamarine sweater, the sleeves pushed back to his elbows. Berwald unwrapped the pieces of beef carefully before balling the yellow rice paper up and tossing it to the tiny trash bin in the kitchen corner. It touches the edge then tumbles to the floor, and Berwald (with his husky winter coat, Eskimo hat, and almost constant stern demeanor) lets out a low grumble of a laugh. Tino turns, shocked to disbelief, and the genuine quality of Sweden's smile calms something in his timid heart. _

It takes a few hard swallows and some rubbing of his eyes to keep the tears at bay.

After he feels clear headed enough, his feet take him over to the refrigerator. There is a bowl of soggy Frosted Flakes on the top shelf with orange juice just behind it. Tino smiles slightly, sighs, and then closes the refrigerator door.

"You're such a silly thoughtful boy…"

Tino reasons that it must be Alfred's influence, who had always been a complete mama's boy. 'Wouldn't have anything to do with Francis', Tino snickers to himself, 'and completely blew his top at a World Conference over the spreading of that silly nursery song Frere Jacques in the American youth'. The boy had practically been kept in the shadow of Author's coattails, not that it helped his rebellious spirit much.

He slurps up the rest of his cereal while contemplating various family dynamics among the other countries. After the bowl is thoroughly empty, he drags himself down the hall and back to his room with its adjoining bathroom. The tiles are almost unbearably cold as he walks briskly across the room to the shower. He only has about 15 minutes to spare, and it isn't nearly enough time to work the tension from his shoulders. Immediately after, he goes over to the sink to brush his teeth and style his hair, putting his favorite beret firmly in place.

Suitcase and coat are swiped off the couch before Tino bustles out the door and to his small white Kia. 'The sun is shining unusually bright for Helsinki today', Tino surmises, 'maybe it's a good omen.'

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Well, this is something I've been dabbling with recently. I've never tried my hand at anything that had a historical parallel, but I feel that the events and various going ons add to the depth of the plot so there will be more references to come. Please feel free to correct me where I'm wrong with anything. :)**

**December 22, 1917 - Decree of Finland's Independence from Russia. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Ack, I've been the definition of procrastination and I am deeply sorry. Here is the next installment of Conditional. **

* * *

><p>"All right! Let's call this world conference to an order." Arthur waved his hand about to signal everyone's attention. His words were mostly ignored, however, in light of the fact that he wasn't Germany, and therefore couldn't yell nearly as good.<p>

The entire table seemed to be involved in a plethora of different conversations, the countries seated in groups of common interest. Arthur sat at one of the heads of the oval table between France and America.

"Ah, do not fret my pretty Angleterre, come sit down on Papa France's lap instead." England's glare was more than enough to wither any plans sprouting about in France's vital regions and was promptly followed by a wail from America.

"I really didn't need that image Francy pants! Gotta burn my eyes out now!"

Canada had opted to sit next to Cuba, and was busy twisting his fingers around in the dreadlocks and speaking to the man quietly.

"Are we still on for that dinner after this lets out, eh?" Cuba chuckles and taps Canada fondly on the nose.

"Of course Matthew, mi cielito lindo." Canada giggles.

To the immediate right of Cuba were most of the Nordic brothers, and next to them the Spanish and Italian speaking countries. Well, Spanish and Italian barring our favorite German, who sat rather quietly between Veneziano and Romano and fumed. Spain chatted animatedly to the less than happy looking South Italy, squealing and pointing excitedly to a turtle.

"Oh Roma, look at this turtle I found on the street! Is he so muy bonito?"

(Insert Romano groan here.)

"Shut up about the stupid turtle already, bastard!"

"Rooommmaaaa~ you're so red, just like a-"

"TOMATO, I KNOW." And if anyone were to ask, no, Romano was not pouting and on the verge of a temper tantrum.

"You wankers I said order!" England screeches, flailing about with enough force to displace his arms from their sockets.

"Where's Germany, aru?" China asked while defending his vital regions from a groping Korea. England gestures to the far left corner of the table as Italy stands.

"Ne, ne. Doitsu lost his voice at the beach the other day! I was chasing a sand crabbie and Doitsu was yelling for me to stop then the crabbie started chasing Doitsu and he was still yelling and it was Fun!"

Italy lets his head fall slightly to the side while'Ve'-ing.

Germany could only grunt indignantly and toss his head to the side at that. The table seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief; Germany was an invalid for the day and couldn't scold them for dozing at the meeting.

"Annyyyyway, I'll let Japan take the floor now in light of his current crisis." England sat and Kiku stood and bowed.

"Arigatou Igirisu. Ano sa… last week there were reports of another tsunami rampaging through Northern Japan, and usually these would be dealt with accordingly. However, this time there was an unmanageable amount of damage done to our Fukushima nuclear waste plant-"

The doors to the meeting room crash open, and Tino tumbles in.

"…Finland-san? Are you alright?"

"Uh, yes Japan… I'm so sorry about interrupting you just now."

"HEY FINLAND BUDDY!"

"Hello America, I hope you're enjoying your sta-"

"Mon ami, la Finlande! The food here is exquisite!"

"Why thank you Francis-"

Japan coughs rather loudly and obviously and Finland gets the hint.

"Um, I'll go sit!" Finland scrambles to the available chair within the Nordics, his head bowed and cheeks delicately flushed. He collects himself and sets out his papers after sitting, trying to ignore the questioning glances of Estonia and Norway. Japan continues speaking.

"Since this tragedy there have been preventative measures taken to contain the radioactive waste…" Estonia leans over and peers at Finland's papers over his glasses, rolling his eyes at the disarray.

"You didn't have time to go through your suitcase and sort out the papers? I mean, this looks pretty frantic for someone who's supposed to be hosting this meeting!" Estonia's whispered criticism seemed to go in one ear and out the other as Finland started furtively organizing the papers, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible.

"I really don't need to hear this right now Eduard. Do me a favor and at least try to pay attention for the both of us." Estonia brushed the bite in those words off his shoulder and continued speaking anyway.

"Shouldn't Peter have helped you with this anyway? He's always up at ridiculous hours of the morning-"

"Peter went to Alfred's. He won't be back till Sunday." The tension of the statement was almost palpable.

"Oh… Fin, you know I didn't mean any… did you and Peter fall out again?"

"It's none of your concern Eduard."

"It is when you're obviously torn up about it."

Truth was, Tino had no idea what Peter was avoiding him for this time. They had their rows, like any normal people would when living in the same house, but those incidents were infrequent. Recently, the oddest thing about their situation was the increasing lack of time spent together, and Tino could easily attribute that to the boy just growing up. Unless…

"You wouldn't ask unless you knew something. What is it Eduard?"

"I have no idea-"

"Don't lie to me."

"… Sweden wants to talk to you Fin."

Tino dropped his file in shock.

"…What?"

Tino hadn't even so much as looked Berwald's way since the day of his freedom, in fact he recall the last time he beheld Sweden's icy eyes to the exact detail.

_As soon as he caught word of the decree his feet flew out of Russia's front door. He ran all the way to Helsinki, where his people were in the street dancing and relishing in their freedom, and to his old half-abandoned home in the middle of the city's rural outcroppings. He didn't stop to rest, nor think, nor breathe until he was safely behind his own doors. For hours he sat on the welcome mat sobbing heavy tears of release, until eventually he had cried all his burdens away and fell into one of the best sleeps of his entire life. Never once that night did he leave from in front of his door._

_The next day Tino awoke to find that the sun had already risen. He picked himself up from the floor and dragged his feet towards where the kitchen should have been. Right after he took his first sip of morning coffee that didn't have to be served to someone else prior to himself, the doorbell rang. Tino didn't rush to get it, and left one of the chain locks in place as he cracked the door open._

"_What?" His normally lilting voice was raw and gravelly, a product of the night before. He saw Sweden, standing there in some dingy looking jeans and a sold black sweater. Sweden who he hadn't seen since 1809, when those same blue eyes had simply stood and watched as Russia hoisted him onto his shoulder, kicking and screaming. _

…'_You said you'd protect me! Sweden! SWEDEN!'… _

_The memory was like a blade in the heart even then, almost 100 years later. _

"_T'no, I h'rd th' n'ws-"Finland came back from his daydream to Sweden mumbling with the door wide open. He hadn't even realized Sweden had reached in and unhooked the chain. His eyes narrowed and his face grew heated as the tears collected. _

"_GET THE FUCK OFF MY PROPERTY!" The door banged shut with enough force to shake the coat rack. _

"_T'no!"_

_Finland slid all the bolts in with resolute clicks. And as good as it felt to finally tell someone that, he still felt the breakdown coming upon him. He tried to crawl away from the door, because he didn't want the Swedish man to hear this… hear him mourning the days of yore. Eventually his strength gave out, and all he could do was scream loud enough to cover the frantic Swedish calls and the echoing agony of each tear falling._

"…Fin? Fin! You hear me?" Estonia was tapping him on the hand. Tino moved it away.

"Yeah I heard you, tell him it won't happen."

"But that's not an option anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Sweden wants to talk about custody of Peter." Finland sat, eyes wide and thoroughly baffled.

"Why now?"

"Who knows? I didn't ask. But, damn it Tino that man wants to be allowed to see his _son_." Tino was slowly shaking his head, refusing to let the thought even process.

"You know why I did what I did! He wasn't ready to be a parent!" His voice had risen to a shaky, albeit angry, whisper.

"Neither were you!"

"More than he was! Eduard you were there! You saw what the dispersing of his people to America was doing to him then! He couldn't remember his name, let alone how to take care of and support another person. I SAVED Peter from having to deal with Sweden basically reverting back to his 'pillage and burn' days!"

"Don't you dare, Tino Mikkonen Vainamoinen, don't you dare go there. We've all had our bad moments." Estonia's tongue was sharp, and spit out Tino's name in a way that subdued him.

"We went to court, I was given full custody, and you were there for that too."

"If he decided he wanted to try an appeal I would encourage him."

"Hitto! Whose side are you on here?"

"I'm on Peters. Whatever happened between you and Berwald is nothing I want to fall between."

"Peter wouldn't want this."

"From what I understand, Peter had already started conversating with Berwald through Alfred, and they're getting along marvelously." Tino swears again.

"Is everyone against me now? I'm just doing what's best for him!" The meeting had come to a close around them, people filing out with their comrades in tow. Estonia could see Sweden out the corner of his eye standing by the doorway.

"…Are you really Fin? Or are you just doing what's best for you?"

Estonia stood and walked away before Tino could utter another word.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And that is where we end for now. Now to clear a few things up, there had been questions about Sealand living with Finland instead of Sweden (the one who actually bought him). This is a part of the plot line, and will be referenced to often. I won't explain in now, least I give something away, but I assure you that it will all fall into place.**

**Translations (in order of appearance):**

** Angleterre - French for 'England'**

**mi cielito lindo - Cuban Spanish, I think literally translated to 'my cute little sky' a term of endearment that I felt fit Matty because of his big pretty blue eyes. 3**

**muy bonito - Spanish for 'very cute'**

**Arigatou Igirisu - Japanese for 'Thank you England'**

**Ano - Japanese for 'Um' when approaching a delicate subject**

**Mon ami, la Finlande - French for 'My friend, Finland'**

**Hitto - Finnish for 'Damn (it)'**


End file.
